


The First Time

by KaydenEli72



Series: All too much [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anxiety, Overworking, Stress, Vomiting, alex is really stubborn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2020-02-15 21:16:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18677545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaydenEli72/pseuds/KaydenEli72
Summary: He needs to work. He needs to. There is so much to be done, so little time. Even if he's a bit sick, that shouldn't stop him, right? He really isn't that sick, and all this work needs to be done.





	1. Not sick

He probably should have gone to bed. A long time ago. But this work wasn’t going to finish itself. His head was bent low, close to the page he was working on. The candlelight was low, nearly dead. Trying to get in a few more words before it went out completely, Alexander scribbled quick as he could. After a moment, the light flickered, and went out. Sighing, Alex pushed all his papers into a pile. Deciding he would finish tomorrow, he began to change into his nightwear. Just as he pulled his shirt over his head, a wave of nausea swept over him, knocking him over. He tumbled to the ground, fighting against his shirt. He hit the ground hard, bruising his shoulder. After a moment of struggling with his shirt, he finally got it off, still lying on the floor. When he finally got it off, he lied on the ground, panting, the world spinning. He couldn’t focus on anything, yet everything was amplified. 

“Alexander?” George Washington’s voice came from the other side of his tent, concerned. “Are you alright in there?”

Alex quickly scrambled to his feet, using the wall to steady himself. As Washington opened the flap, Alex tried to make it look as if he was casually leaning against the wall. “I’m alright, sir. I just tripped.”

Washington looked him up and down, “are you sure about that? You’re rather pale.”

Alex plastered a grin on his face, “of course, sir. I’m just a but tired. That’s all.” His voice was a bit too bright, but Washington didn’t seem to notice.

“Alright then. Get some rest.”

“Yes sir.” Alex watched Washington leave, trying not to fall back to the ground again. His head was spinning so badly, he couldn’t tell which way was up. He stumbled blindly into his bed, not caring about the rest of his clothes. He fell onto the bed, passing out just as he hit the pillow.

______

Alex woke up with a headache. The worst headache he had gotten in a long time- probably in his life, it was worse than a hangover. As he opened his eyes, the world spun once more. He groaned, shutting his eyes once more. This was not a condition he could work in. Correction, this was not a condition he should work in. But he was going to anyway, Alexander Hamilton did not take breaks. Not even when he was sick. Forcing himself up, Alex got dressed, making sure he was presentable. He crossed his tent, swaying with every step, and sat down at his desk. At least this was a day that he could stay in his tent. Pulling out the previous nights papers, Alex got to work.

About an hour later, Washington entered the tent. Alex was so focused on his work, he didn’t notice. It took a few coughs from Washington to pull him out of his focused state. 

“Oh! Sir, I didn’t realize you were standing there! Sorry.’’

“It’s quite alright, Alexander. How is the work coming along?”

“Uh… good, sir. I’m nearly done this part.”

“Good, the you can get some rest.”

“But sir-

“Son, look at yourself. You look like you’re on the verge of passing out, you’re pale and you can’t pay attention to anything! As soon as you’re done this part, rest.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Prove it.’’ Commanded Washington.

Alex looked up at him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Prove that you’re not sick. Stand up and walk over to me.”

“Why?” Alex planned to stall as long as he could, he knew there was no way he was going to get to Washington in this state. He needed a plan.

“Because, if you can’t do it, well, obviously you’re sick. If you can, then you’ve just been overworked.”

“If I can, do I still have to rest?”

“Yes. But if you can’t, you’re not going to be working for a while. At least until you’re better.”

Alex’s stomach dropped at this. “But sir, I need to finish this work!”

“Stop stalling, come over here.” 

Alex took a deep breath, hoping he would make it. He stared at the ground,  _ one foot in front of the other,  _ he thought, concentrating on not passing out. At last, Washington’s feet came into view, but Alex didn’t look up. He only said, “See? I’m not sick!”

Washington looked him up and down. “Alright,” he said after a moment, “but I still want you to rest. You need it.”

“Fine. But can I at least finish this part?”

“Alright.” Washington sighed. “But promise me you’ll rest, okay?”

“I promise.” 

Washington looked at him once more, then turned and walked out of the tent.

As soon as he was gone, Alex sighed, letting himself sink to the ground. It had been hard enough trying to keep it from Washington, he couldn’t stand any longer.  _ What is wrong with me?  _ He thought, sweating,  _ I never feel like this!  _ Mustering all the strength that he could get, Alex stood, shaking, his mind still think with thoughts. He forced himself back into his desk to continue his work. It didn’t take all too long, and in no time, Alex was setting it aside, preparing to start on his next piece.  _ Promise me you’ll rest, okay?  _ Washington’s words rung through his mind, willing him to rest. Sometime later, he had to give in, his eyes already half closed. Before he could stand, his work caught up to him, forcing his eyes closed. His head hit the desk, his shoulders relaxing at last, as he fell into the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

 

Alex woke with a start, his neck aching. He was confused, where was he? When had he fallen asleep? Everything came back, but only in snippets. He remembered Washington coming in, working, and then… nothing. Alex stood, planning to give the piece of work he had finished earlier… or yesterday… he didn’t know what time or day it was. As he stood, a wave of nausea washed over him. When he regained his balance, he put his hand on the desk for support.  _ I can’t see Washington like this! He’ll know! I’ll have to take more days off! He’s going to worry!  _ Alex’s mind raced. He didn’t want Washington knowing he was sick, he would worry about Alex. Even though he knew that it was stupid and that he should get help, Alex didn’t care. He hated people wanting to look after him, even if it was for his own good. Alex stood there, thinking about what he should do. An idea came to him at last, overcoming every other thought he had pondered.  _ What if I tok a few days off? I could go uptown… get better… and Washington won’t have to worry! I could tell him something like… um… what could I tell him? I’ll figure that out later. I need to find Washington.  _ Alex left, tilting slightly. Everything was slightly blurred, and spinning. It was making his head pound. More than once, he stumbled, nearly hitting the ground. Once or twice, he hit someone, muttering a quick apology before continuing on. He knew he had to get to Washington’s before all his energy drained.  _ One foot after the other. One foot after the other.  _ He repeated it, not paying attention to where he was, just focusing on continuing to walk. At last, he reached the steps of Washington’s home. Tripping over the first step, Alex made his way up, knocking when he reached the door.

Footsteps came from the other side, getting closer and closer. Then, he heard a click, and someone opened the door. “Alexander! How are you? Come in!” Martha Washington stood before him, arms open. 

“Hello Martha. I don’t think I can come in today, but could you take a message for George?” He greeted, giving her a quick hug.

“Alright…” She said, looking confused. “What is it?”

“Could you please tell George that I need to take a few… personal days. I’m feeling a bit under the weather, and I would rather no one else get sick.”

“Well, you know you could stay here, right?”

“I’ll be okay. Could you please tell George?” He was nearly begging.

“Alright. I’ll tell him. Are you sure that you can’t come in?”

“I’m sure. Sorry Martha. I’ll see you soon then!” He added, waving with a smile. 

“See you later, Alexander.” Martha returned the smile, closing the door behind him.

Alex didn’t look back as he stumbled away from the house, barely noticing anything in his way. His vision was blurry, his mind thick. It felt like a fog he had gotten lost in. 

When he got back to his tent, he fell inside, almost literally. His legs were ready to give out, his entire body aching with exhaust from the walk. He had never felt like this before, not when he spent a week awake, not when he hadn’t eaten in three days, this was different. He couldn’t think, he could hardly move.  _ But I have to go before Washington gets here.  _ It was the only clear thought he had. He packed a bag, light as he could, and left, leaving a note for Washington. He began to make his way up the dirt path that lead away from the camp. He had no place in mind, only that he had to get away from the camp.

He walked for a long time- at least that’s what it seemed to him. When his feet could carry him no longer, he made his way into the forest that lined the side of the road, making sure no one could see him from the road. The last thing he needed was to end up in the hospital. He covered himself in some branches to be disguised further, then let himself fall into a restless sleep.

A long while later, Alex awoke, shaking and sweaty. His brain was muddled and he had no idea where he was. His memories were blurred, not able to get anything clear. All he remembered is that he was sick. And he had to keep it from Washington.  _ Why? Why do I have to keep it from him?  _ John was too tired to question it that much, so he let it go. He sat up, taking in his surroundings. From what he could tell, he was in a forest, though he didn’t know where, and he had no idea which way camp was. Even if he wanted to go back, he couldn’t, he was lost. Without warning, nausea crashed over him, making everything spin. His stomach turned, forcing him to whip his head around and vomit to the side. He coughed, spitting out the remains form his mouth, and lied down, feeling both very hot and very cold. The world continued to spin. After a moment, Alex closed his eyes, hoping it would help. Instead, it made his brain feel like it was full of cotton and the ground feel as if were moving below him. Everything felt hazy, he didn’t know where he was. Everything began to feel more and more compressed as he lie there, unable to move. At some point, he left consciousness, and everything overtook him.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex doesn't really know where he is. The sun is too bright in his eyes. Everything hurts. Nothing is clear. There is only one thing he knows, get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while, but I have finally finished this chapter, and I'm working on the next part in the series. Hope you enjoy! :)

The next time Alex regained full consciousness, everything hurt. He remembered bits of the past few days, but not much. He knew that there was a huge blank in his memory that he wasn’t getting back. He remembered bits where he had vomited, even without food in him, bits where he had tried- and failed- to stand. He even remembered a bit where it had seemed like a lion was running at him. No, that couldn’t be right. Lions didn’t live around this part of the country. He must be going mad. 

As he stood, Alex realized that he should be feeling sick, or at least something from when he had been ill. But he didn’t, he didn’t feel anything. He felt numb, like everything was slightly wrong, but he didn’t know how. It was all too much, and too little, it didn’t make sense. He tried to figure out what it was, but his brain seemed like it couldn’t comprehend anything. He grabbed a tree, trying to stand. Thoughts began to crash over him, blinding him, taking up everything he knew to be them and only them.  _ You’re going to die here. You’ll never see Washington or anyone again. No one will ever know. This is your end.  _ The voices in his head were whispering, but it was all here could hear. He felt his knees hit the ground, his face pushing into the grass. He felt cold. He couldn’t focus on anything, the voices were too overpowering.  _ You’re done. You don’t get to say goodbye. Let go, Alex. Let go.  _ The voices were chanting, he began groaning, crying. It hurt to breathe, to move. He wanted to let go.  _ No.  _ It was another voice, one trying to rise above the rest.  _ Don't let go. Think of Washington, John, Hercules, Lafayette. Think of your future, the life that lies ahead.  _ Alex tried to focus on the voice, but when he did, the chanting of  _ let go  _ became louder, more intense. So he didn’t.. He forced himself to think of home. Of the camp. Of his friends. Of Washington.  He forced himself to stand up, to open his eyes. He forced himself to walk, to grab his bag. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know where he was going, he only knew that if he stopped, the the voices would take over. He knew, that sick as he was, he would collapse from exhaustion eventually, and he had to get there. Not where felt tired, he had to go until he couldn’t. 

He reached a road, hardly able to move. He knew that if he collapsed now, someone would find him on the side of the road, they might take him somewhere that he could get help. Maybe even to Washington. He stood in the middle of the road, not thinking when he chose a direction. At least someone could see him now. He continued to walk, never stopping, not looking anywhere, just walking. At some point, everything around him seemed to fade away, but he kept walking. He pushed through the pain. Eventually, the voices stopped. And so did everything else. His legs, his determination, just stopped. He didn’t feel himself hit the ground, he didn’t hear the sound of someone screaming, because it had all stopped. Just… stopped.

When he woke, everything was still off. He couldn’t place his finger on it. He could hear voices around him, but his eyes stayed closed. Even without them open, the light from everything was too much. It all hurt. He groaned, trying to block out the light.

“Alexander? Alex are you alright?”

Alex’s brain seemed  to be moving at a much slower pace than it should. Everything around him was going much too fast. The voice sounded familiar, he knew it. But he couldn’t place who it was. 

“Alex, please. Anything. Any noise.”

His brain moving a bit faster now, he tried to speak, only groaning. But he still couldn’t place the voice.

“You’re awake! I must go get Martha. Don’t move.” There were footsteps moving further away, then, nothing. 

As he lied there, Alex finally connected the dots. Someone he knew… Martha… it had to be Washington. It made sense. How had he not realized sooner! Annoyed with his stupidity, he tried to open his eyes. When he managed it, he had to immediately close them from the light that blinded him. He lied there, trying to figure out what Washington could know. How much could he have realized? Would he know that Alex was too sick to do anything, or did he just think that Alex was really overworked and sleep deprived. He could only hope for the second. When it came to illness, Washington was very overprotective of him. He heard footsteps again, this time there seemed to be more people. Washington had obviously found Martha. 

“He really is awake this time Martha, come and see.” Washington sounded exasperated, like he had explained this many times.

“George, everytime you say he’s awake, then I come, and he’s not. I have a right to not believe you.”

Alex chuckled to himself, in his head. He then tried to speak again, this time his mouth actually opening, “Aaaannng,” was the sound he made.

“See! I told you! He’s awake!” Washington sounded excited now, Alex had never heard him like this.

_ How long have I been out? _

“Alright George. Calm down. You don’t want to be too loud.” Martha sounded like she was speaking to a small child.

“Sorry.” Washington muttered.

“Alright.” Alex felt Martha bend down next to him. “Alex, can you your eyes yet?”

Knowing it was going to be blinding, Alex opened them, shutting them quickly again. “Mmmm.” He groaned. 

“Is it too bright? If it is, say something. If it isn’t, well, don’t.”

Alex groaned again, wishing he could speak. 

“Alright Alexander,” Washington’s voice came from somewhere to his right, “I’ll stand in the way of the sun, then you can open your eyes.”

The light in his eyelids lessened. He cracked open his eyes once more, this time able to keep them like that. He looked up into the faces of Martha and George Washington, taking in their worried expressions mixed with tinges of happiness. “‘Ey,” He managed, his voice raspy.

“Alex, we were so worried,” Martha told him, “the nurses told us that it was only the flu, but we still worried.”

Alex’s heart lifted. Not from their worrying, but from the fact that it might only be the flu. He hadn’t heard of anyone getting so sick from the flu that they lost their memory, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t possible. Even so, he didn’t want Washington just how sick he’d been.

“Son-” Washington began.

“Notcha son.”

“-you shouldn’t have left. Do you know how worried we were? Do you know how long you were gone? A week. How sick were you? Did you at least take care of yourself? Why didn’t you stay, we have enough medicines to help you! And-”

“Slow down, dear, let the boy speak. You’re rambling again. Just do one question at a time. Okay?” Martha cut him off, with a nod towards Alex.

“Alright. Alexander, why didn’t you come home? We have plenty of people to help you.”

Alex shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I don’t like being seen as weak.”

The couple rolled their eyes. “Alex,” Martha told him, “we don’t mind. We won’t judge, you can trust us, you know.”

“I know, I just… was stubborn.” Alex looked down, blushing.

“Of course.” Said Washington. “Next question, how sick were you? Really.”

“Well,” Alex paused, thinking of a quick lie, “I was pretty bedridden the whole time, and I couldn’t keep anything down. So, just a really bad flu I guess?” Alex made his lie as close to the truth as he could.

Washington looked as if he believed it, but Martha still looked skeptical, “where did you stay?” She asked, eyeing him closely.

Alex had to think fast, “is it bad to say that I don’t remember? Because I just stumbled out of here and into town, I didn’t really look where I went, I just did. I ended up in some hotel I think.” He hoped his face wasn’t giving anything away. 

Martha looked nearly satisfied with his answer, “and why did you not look?” she questioned further.

“I was tired, sick, it didn’t really seem necessary to me. I know, I know, it was a bad decision. Sorry.”

At last, she looked like she believed him. “At least you came home. Now, I want you to stay in bed for the next few days. No arguments. We need to be sure that you are all right. George will have someone do your work for you for the next bit. Right George?” She tapped him on the shoulder once re twice to get his attention. Alex had the feeling that Washington had been to wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize what was happening.

“Hmm? Oh, yes. Yes I will.” He turned red, looking more embarrassed than Alex had ever seen.

“Right. Now, you stay here, Alexander, George and I need to go get something to eat. Are you hungry?”

Alex shook his head. His stomach felt the same way it had for days, empty, but not in need of food. The older two stood up and left, leaving Alex to his thoughts. 

_ What if I hadn’t come back? What if I hadn’t been found?  _ Alex’s thoughts rushed around his head, making him dizzy. Nearly all of them worried him, but one managed to rise above the others,  _ they were worried. They love you as a son and they were worried.  _ The thought somehow brought comfort to Alex.  _ They were glad to see you. I just gotta let them take care of me for a few days.  _ Alex was smiling now. He realized just how much the Washington’s had been worried, and felt bad. But in some ways, he was happy. He was happy that he was loved and happy that someone cared, it was something that he had missed out on for a long time. He could hear the Washington laughing downstairs, and it brought him relief. He knew that the Washingtons would never know the whole truth, but he didn’t care. All that really mattered was that he was safe, and he was going to be okay.


End file.
